The bobbins hung motionless

A blank was guaranteed for my first eel session of the year. Three new rods rigged up with three new reels was enough to enforce the new tackle hex, but a new foot pedal release for my camera to make self-takes easier was the cherry on the cursed cake.

It being a Monday I had the place to myself when I rocked up around eight fifteen on a warm evening with sunshine between the clouds being blown in on a moderate westerly. I was going to set up where I'd left off my pike fishing but the lilies had encroached and made the swim a bit tight so after a wander around I settled slowly into the swim next to it.

There was plenty of time before I expected the eels to start showing any interest in my baits, the usual offerings of legered and off-bottom worms, plus a trial run for a chunk of bluey on the leger with the wire trace. Once the rods were out I started playing around with my camera. It took me an age to get the flash gun working with the remote trigger for some 'arty' shots.

Being just a week after the Summer Solstice it felt like it would never get dark. Fiddling with the camera gave me something to do. Around nine there was a bit of action on the bluey rod but only a couple of bleeps from the Delkim. The bait was still intact.

With nothing happening I thought I could spend a while trying out the foot pedal. Better to get to know how best to set it up before trying a self-take with a monster eel. As if that is ever likely for the world's worst eel angler!

 

It's just 'plug and play' really, much less fiddling around than with the bulb release and bracket system I've been using for years. A boring 'sat by the rods looking vacant' picture was the result.

Available from Rhino Tech (no affiliation) the pedal costs £25 and is available to suit a range of cameras - for those who haven't abandoned cameras in favour of the convenience of a smart phone... I had tried making something similar myself some time ago and it didn't last long! So I consider this one money well spent. A Velcro type cable tidy seemed like a good idea, and I found an old camera pouch which the pedal fits in to prevent it getting tangled up with the rest of the junk in my rucksack.

When the light did eventually begin to fade the eel action hotted up. I had the legered bunch of worms stolen following a couple of bleeps, then an hour later another few bleeps and squawks saw the worms come back unmolested. That was my lot. It's great to be back eeling...

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Up and running again

Having seen my first fieldfares since spring last Friday, with the air temperature in single figures the low sun and clear sky made it feel like pike time was here at last. With that in mind and work not going to plan I had an early lunch, packed the pike gear in the car and set off to make the most of the afternoon before the rain arrived.

The reeds are in their winter colours, the trees almost completely bare with a strong southerly stripping a few more leaves from their branches. Despite the ripple on the water it had that cold blue look which it takes on through the winter months on days such as this. A blue that makes orange pike floats glow like beacons in the sunlight. All that was missing was a frost to make the ground hard and the grass crisp. That'll come.

I thought that fishing the edges of remaining weed would be a good place to start so two float legered deads and a paternostered sprat were cast to strategic places that matched that profile. It was quarter past one as I settled in with my back to the wind to watch the floats. After an hour I repositioned the lamprey head. Half an hour later I was wondering if a move might be worthwhile. After moving my gear two swims along I put the rods in the second swim along for some reason and moved the rest of the gear to join it.

There wasn't much in the way of weed in this swim but I could cover more water. Two baits were dropped in the margins - left and right - the lamprey got chucked out into no-man's land. I can't say I was feeling any more confident. As so often happens as soon as you stop expecting or hoping for a run one materialises. So it goes. The least likely float was on the move.

The good thing about fishing braid off the baitrunner is that there is no slack and no stretch when you come to set the hooks. There's hardly anything to the 'winding down' part of the hookset. Half a turn of the reel handle and you feel the pike enough to pull the rod back and drive the hooks home. A carefully set clutch can be advantageous in case the pike makes a sudden lung on feeling steel.

This fish made no such lunge. It came in like the proverbial wet sack, only waking up at the net where it did the big-headed gill flare and shake that makes you think you've hooked something much bigger than you have. Obviously a double the headshake looked about eighteen pounds, the length about fourteen, in the net the girth looked nearer ten. Not really big enough for a self-take but I thought I should try out the camera I bought earlier in the year having caught nothing worth setting the tripod up for all spring and summer. I left the pike in the net, after staking the net out with a bankstick just in case the fish got frisky.

Everything went smoothly. I set the mat and forceps out, with the sling and zeroed scales close by, then rigged up the tripod, camera and bulb release. Two quick practice shots to make sure things were lined up and it was time to get the fish out of the water.

Laid on the mat the hooks were easily removed, the rod put out of harms way and the pike weighed. Just over twelve pounds and tatty for the time of year. More like a post spawn fish. Lift for two shots of each side then back into the sling to go back to the water. Easy peasy.

The lamprey head was still dripping blood so back out it went. I put a fresh joey on the other float leger rig and cast it further out to my right adjacent to some dying weed. The sky was getting darker grey from the west and the air temperature dropping.

Was another move in order, or should I put the brolly up to keep the breeze off? The first spots of light rain made up my mind. The brolly went up and I hunkered down on the low chair with another cup of flask tea. There was less than an hour of light left as the rain got a little heavier and the wind dropped. A small flock of starlings circled looking for a roost site. Jackdaws headed east. A kingfisher dashed along the margin clipping my middle line as the light faded to that stage where colours disappear. The rain eased again and I took the chance to pack up before the head torch was required.

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No eels again

It's a good job I've not been catching anything worth setting the camera up for a self-take recently. I looked in my rucksack the other day to show someone my bulb release bracket and the important bit was missing. Later I searched through the entire rucksack, side pockets and all, and failed to find the missing part. I ordered a new one, opting for the larger bracket this time so I could use a larger camera without too much fiddling around.

The new bracket arrived today and it's better than the old one. Gone are the plastic tops to the adjustment screws, replaced by machined metal ones. I was always fearful the plastic would detach from the thread at a critical time, so was wary of over tightening. These seem more robust. My first job has been to glue a bit of shrink tube to the top of the post to try and prevent the block sliding off and getting lost like the other one did. I ought to get the post top threaded to take a locknut to make a permanent job of it.

Lacking any worms the other evening I set out to catch eels using some more deadbaits I'd discovered in my freezer. For a bit of variety I legered one and fished the other on a Dyson rig. It was pleasantly warm, with a strongish easterly blowing. A wind that didn't die down at dusk.

The mozzies were out in force for that period when the light fades but the temperature stays high. Ducks and duckling were stretching their necks to catch flies low over the water while swifts were in evidence catching flies high over the water. In a calm patch a shoal of small fish were feeding off the surface. Although mozzies and midges might be a nuisance, they're an essential pat of the food chain.

Well before dark the legered bait was picked up, but another strike failed to connect. Later on the Dyson fished bait got messed with. The bobbin was twicthing, but even pulling the line out of the clip failed to produce a confident run or a hooked fish. Eel frustration continues. I must make an effort to both stock up on deadbaits and go fish another water I've had on my radar for a few years. That's the thing with eels, big ones can turn up in all sorts of places.

Big natural lakes in Cumbria contain them - although wading through the bootlaces to get at them was a problem thirty years ago when I gave it a try. We set up well before daylight and legered worms to catch eels for pike bait. I thought I'd be clever and fish two rods. I couldn't keep two baits in the water the takes were coming that fast and furious! None of the eels broke the pound mark as I remember. On the same water legered half mackerel would get hollowed out by eels without any indication. At other times a decent eel, two pounds or more (much more if you were lucky, which I wasn't), would pick up and engulf a pike bait - treble hooks and all. I can't work out what makes eels finicky at times and suicidal at others.

Reports of big eels from small commercial fisheries are increasingly common as these places mature, and lots of bait goes in. The problems there are avoiding the blasted carp which will eat anything, restrictive rules, and the popularity of the places. Commercials aren't too bad to fish for perch in winter when the t-shirt brigade are hibernating. I doubt I could face them in summer. I wonder if that neglected pond down the road has any eels in it?

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A testing session

It being the penultimate Sunday of the river season, a warm and sunny one at that, I expected the river to be busy. It was. With just enough room for one car in the car park I was still hopeful of getting the swim I fancied, as it's not a popular one. Sure enough the anglers fishing were grouped in the expected places and the run below the rapids was free. With the sky as clear as the river I reckoned the deeper water, particularly out by the crease, might be worth a chuck. Not expecting much action until the sun began to drop I left my gear and had a wander. Talking to two anglers who had both just returned their first fish of the day, it was two in the afternoon and they'd arrived around nine in the morning, it seemed like the light needed to fade before the fish would feed well. I wandered back to my swim and took my time setting up. There was no rush.

It's always a pity the river season doesn't last another fortnight. The weather so often starts to turn pleasantly warm around late February and into March. This was one of those days when the bunny suit wasn't really required until later in the day. There was little wind to take the edge off the sun's warmth. By the time I had all my gear arranged round my chair and two baits in the water I was ready for a cup of flask tea.

Despite a mid-week frost and the river having dropped and cleared it had risen in temperature to just shy of 7c. This time out I left the barbel rods and boilies at home. Perhaps I shouldn't have done given the conditions?  Then again I wanted to catch chub, not barbel and to try one of my 1.75lb Torrixes as a chub rod. I had rigged it up to fish a lump of three-year-old cheese paste on a size six hook to a 3lb 6oz Reflo Powerline hooklength. The rig was the same helicopter rig I use for the maggot feeder, but I chose to fish it with a straight lead and let the paste do the attracting. It certainly stank well enough! The other rod fished the same as last time out, a single red maggot on a 16. But this time I had some hemp and pellets to add to the maggots in the feeder.

It took a while for bites to materialise. A couple of hours in fact. During the quiet spell I was surprised to see some small fish in the margins. The minnows don't usually show up at this time of year, and looking at the size of some of the fish they hadn't long hatched. What they were I don't know. They did seem to prefer the maggots I threw to them over the pellets and hemp though. Perhaps they were trout fry?

A bigger surprise was that the first proper bite, I'd had a few plucks to the maggot, was to the paste. The rod tip bounced continuously and I lifted into a decent feeling fish that woke up half way in. So much for waiting for the light to go. I'd had the choice of fishing to the right of a bush with a nice clean margin of sloping sand, or to its left with a jumble of sunken branches at my feet. Like a fool I chose the latter, so as I dropped my landing net in the edge it drifted with the eddy straight into the wood and got tangled. I managed to keep a tight line to the fish and free the net. But it was touch and go.

The Torrix did its job well, although I think it would be even better if it was a tad lighter in test curve, and maybe a little softer in the butt. Even so I never felt like the hooklength was in danger or parting.

Safely netted it was time to unhook the chub. At first glance I saw my hooklength had snapped. Closer inspection revealed that the broken line was considerably thicker than what I'd been using, and my hooklength hadn't parted at all. How a chub of four and a half pounds had bust off someone fishing with what looked like ten pound mono I don't know. The hook was deep but easily retrieved and had the remains of two white maggots on it. It was also a fairly heavy gauge hook that had partially opened out. Maybe the chub had picked up a snagged rig?

Having forgotten my keepnet last time out I was better prepared, so the chub was slipped safely into the net read to be joined by a host of it's shoalmates.

Next cast in the maggot rod signalled a positive bite. A wriggling, writhing fish suggested a trout, but no. It was a small grayling which I returned immediately. A repeat performance ten minutes later the maggot rod was in action again, this time it was a trout, and another followed another ten minutes after. That was the biggest trout of the day. And as it turned out the final fish too.

I continued to get plucks to the maggot rod as the light faded, but nothing positive save for one that broke the hooklink. The paste rod was also in action, but again nothing that I managed to connect with. I think I should have cast it further upstream after dark to improve the chances of fish hooking themselves. I had neglected to fit the rod with an isotope so seeing the bites was a bit of a problem. A problem touch legering would have solved I suppose.

Having become spoiled by the quality of photos that my DSLR produces compared to my flip-screen camera I used this opportunity to try the DSLR for a self-take or two. I had made a device to allow me to operate my radio remote release with a knee or foot and it had worked fine in the house. On the bank it didn't work at all! I was, therefore, reduced to holding it in my right hand while holding the fish. Which actually worked quite well. A bracket adaptor to take a bulb release like I have for my smaller camera would work better though, and not depend on batteries to function. Framing is a a bit troublesome without a flip-screen, but not insurmountable. I managed well enough with my previous fishing camera, and the larger sensor of the DSLR allows cropping while maintaining better image quality than my flip-screen camera at full frame. Out of four shots one was pretty good. With more practice, and shifting the camera off auto, I'll get better results.

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Self-Takes Part 2

Since my original bulb release split, the mechanism being permanently fixed to my adaptor bracket, I have been using a second bracket which I bought when I thought I'd lost part of the first one. Having used it for a good few months now (although not recently...) I think it's better than the first one as it locks more securely in all places and being aluminium and steel construction the thread the release screws into shouldn't strip like the plastic block did.

The part that screws into the camera's base is also less likely to be lost as it is captive in the channel of the bracket. I've slipped some aquarium tube over the ends of the posts to stop them slipping out in transit. The only thing to watch out for is a thumbscrew working loose and getting lost.

Camera attached to bracket and tripod quick-release plate

The bracket (and the replacement bulb release) were bought from SRB-Griturn who have since proved very helpful with other orders for photographic accessories. To be safe order the angled version which will accommodate any angle of shutter button. A larger version for SLR cameras is also available.

More on self-takes here.

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Better than watching telly

I've had a couple of e-mails asking about self-take photographs with fish this week. The ones you see on this blog are the best of the ones I take. Some turn out pretty ropey, even with practice, but most work out quite well.

The equipment I use is simple, and idiot proof. Which is just as well! The camera is a Canon S3-IS which has a flip round screen. I have used a camera without a flip round screen, but it is a bit of a bind having to take a test shot (sans fish), walk round the back of the tripod, review the picture, make adjustments, repeat the test shot and so on. With the screen flipped each shot is previewed automatically, so all you have to do is either move your position or the tripod to get the shot framed. I wouldn't consider a camera without a flip round screen these days.

Canon S3-IS

Self timers are okay, but they focus when you set them going. Unless you put something in the same place as you and the fish will be when taking the picture this means the camera focuses on the background. Not too good in a lot of situations. A bulb release and adaptor is what is required.

Camera, adaptor bracket and bulb release

The one shown came from Jessop's, but I don't think they supply them any longer. There is an alternative which seems better made that I bought when the Jessop's one broke. But after mending the bracket by fixing the release mechanism to it all has been well. At least I have a spare!

Bodged!

You can find more about these items, and links to suppliers, on Barbel Now. There is a good article on self take photography on the PAC website. I have found it best to place the bulb under the heel of my foot, rather than trying to use a knee or toes to press it. More weight is transfered more easily, and I don't seem to gurn quite so much. I still usually manage to look gormless. But that's situation normal for me...

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I called in at my local tackle shop to top up my stock of crab Pellet-Os yesterday afternoon (using five at a time gets through the handy little tubs quite quickly when you're catching). My mate who works there asked if I was fishing again that evening and I said I didn't think I was. He reckoned he would if he'd had a good catch. After I'd finished my chicken and chips and washed the pots I threw the gear in the car and was on my way. Well, fishing beats watching the TV and surfing the bloomin' internet!

I wasn't keen on fishing the same peg two days running, but I didn't have much option. Within five minutes of casting out I pulled out of a fish. Then it went quiet. As the light faded I landed a barbel of some three pounds on the upstream rod, fishing a five pellet snake. Five minutes later the same rod was away again and I weighed the next fish - two ounces short of nine pounds.

Ten minutes later I was winding in the downstream rod for a recast when the upstreamer started nodding and the baitrunner whirred. It seems like the barbel will give a 'proper' bite if you don't react instantly. However, by the time I picked up the rod everything felt solid. I put the rod back in the rests, the rod tip nodding occasionally, while I rebaited and recast the downstream rod. Returning to the snagged fish I pointed the rod down the line and pulled. The paper clip did its job and released the lead. The fish was another smallish one of five or so pounds - unhooked in the water and slipped straight back like all the little ones.

Two more fish came to the 'snake', and one to the downstream Tuff 1 during the following hour and a half. A couple more also snagged me on the strike. I snagged a few times without getting a bite too. I need to mould up more leads before I run out!

The night was warm again, no fleece required, but it turned damp. Hardly drizzle, more a fine misty-mizzle that hardly warranted erecting the brolly but I put it up anyway. Things seemed to have gone quite when at ten forty the 'snake' rod finally acted like it should when a barbel makes off with the bait. This felt much better, and a bit of a plod upstream gave the game away.

A final self-take tip - don't wear a black sweatshirt for night time photos!

I've been away from the Ribble since I was fishing it three nights a week during the '05-'06 season, catching my last double from it on the foggy Christmas Eve of 2005. It's good to be back. An hour after returning the fish I was on my way home. With a few fish under my belt I think I can face a blank or two after something bigger elsewhere!

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